


you, me, and the devil makes two

by ThaliaClio



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst with a Happy Ending, Could be read as Gen or Slash, Gen, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, and it's not matt, kind of, the devil walks on earth, this is kind of weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThaliaClio/pseuds/ThaliaClio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a difference between Falling and being Cast Down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you, me, and the devil makes two

**Author's Note:**

> "Few things are absolute, Matthew. Even Lucifer was once an angel."

“Are you sure they’ll let us in?” Matt asks, his palm warm against Foggy’s.

Foggy squeezes his hand. Doesn’t answer.

He raises a fist and knocks.

\--

This is how it starts.

It starts with a Fall.

He’s always hated that word --  _ Fall _ . As though this were an accident. It wasn’t -- not at all. He did not  _ fall _ from Heaven; he was  _ cast _ from it. 

 

This is how it is different.

He isn’t in Hell.

People -- prophets, zealots -- people assumed that he Fell (was  _ cast _ , never fell) all the way down. Into the Pit. But he wasn’t.  Isn’t.

 

This is how it is.

He’s here. Now. Always has been.

The whole  _ point _ , the lesson he was meant to learn, was to love people, not to punish them. Father wanted him to  _ understand _ .

 

And this… this is where he is now.

\--

When he finds out about Matt, about Dare _ devil _ , he… he has no words for how he feels. Angry. 

Betrayed. Lost. Hurt.  _ Sad _ . Mostly, though, it feels like being  _ cast _ all over again.

Someone who he loved unconditionally and wholly let him down.

But, like being Cast, he learns to  _ understand _ .

The first time was worse. So, so much worse. The first time, he spent millennia having what he can now admit was the mother of all temper tantrums.

This time is still bad, though. Because instead of an omniscient being on the other side it was  _ Matt. _

Matt. Matt with his soft eyes. Matt with his broken heart. Matt with his acerbic humor. Matt with his sunshine smile.

But even the Devil is fallible. And all that light pouring from Matt’s grin blinded him to the blood between Matt’s teeth.

\--

“Fog?”

“Mm?”

He looks up from his desk, the tiny letters seeming to follow his vision for a moment until he blinks them away. Matt is leaned back, away, chewing on his lip hard. His glasses rest on the table --  _ red as sin, red as hate, red as love, red, red,  _ **_red_ ** \-- and he drums his fingers haphazardly over his own (Braille) pages.

“Do you… That is, I…” He can’t remember a time Matt had ever been so lost for words, tripping and stumbling over his own tongue and thoughts.

“You okay there, buddy?” He asks cautiously.  _ (Less cautiously than he thought he might have to, after Matt found out, after he told Matt. But Matt was relieved, was okay, still loved him and and and -- Matt was Everything now.) _

“Do you hate me? For still… for still believing, praying?” Matt’s voice is very small and something else he can’t quite identify. 

He blinks. Sits back. Stares.

Matt is almost --  _ almost _ \-- teary eyed, clearly afraid of whatever answer would come ( _ afraid to be left) ((again)) (((he would never,  _ **_never_ ** _ stop being surprised, being grateful that Matt hadn’t left him))) _ .

“ _ Of course not _ ,” he finally says, finding his breath somewhere in the bottom of his lungs. He scrambles out of his chair to crouch in front of Matt, taking the fidgety  _ (cold, cold)  _ hands in his own. “Matty, I believe just as much as you do and pray just as much and as hard as you do.”

Matt exhales once, shaky and long and then smiles, crooked and small but real. He shifts his hands so that their fingers are interlaced, and Matt swipes his thumb across their knuckles. He heaves himself to his feet, yanking Matt up too, and wraps his best friend  _ (his Everything) _ in a tight, warm hug. Slowly, Matt squeezes back,  _ (cold, cold) _ hands scrunching into the suit jacket.

_ ( _ **_I would burn the world above, the world below, and this one if it made you smile_ ** _ , he doesn’t say.  _

**_Now do you understand?_ ** _ He asks again.) _

\--

When he finally says it --  _ I understand. I was wrong. _ \-- He just smiles and shakes his head.  _ Not yet _ , He tells the Devil, oh so wise.  _ Let me show you. _

And then the Devil is  _ Cast _ down all over again.

\--

_ Franklin _ , these humans -- his  _ parents _ \-- call him.  _ Foggy _ , they decide to rename him when they find out exactly how loud he snores.

He thinks like a human, experiences all of the ignorance inherent to mortals. But, like an itch, he still  _ knows _ . He  can’t articulate this, even to himself, until the day he turns 18.

( **_What a fucking cliche_ ** _ , Matt tell him, years and years later. He grabs the bottle right from Matt’s slack hand and takes another drink before he answers.  _ **_Yeah, well, He’s an overdramatic asshole_ ** _.) _

\--

He meets Matt.

He meets Matt and he knows himself, knows who and what he is. That first moment he sees him -- standing in the doorway, vulnerable and hopeful -- he  _ wants _ . He can feel the pain, the anger rolling off the friendly, attractive man in the doorway, and he wants to wrap himself in it.

He says… something. He doesn’t really know. But he knows it was innocuous. 

And then Matt steps inside and sets his things down, here to stay.

The Devil leans back and inhales and  _ wants _ .

\--

He hears Matt crying. He  _ wants _ Matt to cry, to hurt. He hears Matt  _ begging _ him to come back, to  **_please, please. foggy. just let me explai--_ ** **.** He keeps walking, tasting the salt of his own tears.

**_Do you understand yet, my son?_** He asks His son while he walks down the stairs, white knuckles gripping the railing.

**_Fuck you_ ** , he snarls. ( **_yes, yes. i get it. make it stop, i don’t want this._ ** _ ) (( _ **_i wouldn’t trade this for the world._ ** _ )) _

\--

The first time he hears Matt say it they’re drunk, stumbling down the steps of --- somewhere.

**_‘M grandma used to say th-that the Murdock boys -- that we got the Devil in us._ **

And his blood  _ burns _ . He wants to open his mouth, wants to say  _ fuck your grandma. you are the best this world has to offer.  _ He doesn’t. Just holds Matt’s arm a little tighter.

\--

He has done terrible, terrible things. He’ll probably do worse.

But now, right now, here on the roof of Matt’s building because there’s a blackout and for once they can see the stars --

Right now the Devil remembers that his name once was Lucifer and that there is still light in this world. Matt turns and smiles -- wide,  _ bright _ \-- and he’s not blind the to the blood in the cracks of his teeth and he doesn’t  _ want _ . 

Right now he  _ needs _ .

Right now he reaches for another beer and his best ( _ his only _ ) friend’s hand.

\--

Somewhere in Hell’s Kitchen there’s an old church with an old graveyard watched over by an old priest. In the back corner, right against the chainlink fence, are two newly dug graves.

Inside the old church the old priest sits at a new table and sips a latte. 

\--

Foggy -- his name was Foggy, not Lucifer, not Satan, not Devil -- Foggy watched his friend die pale and unresponsive in a hospital bed. His body was found in their office the next day, dead of a spontaneous brain aneurysm.

\--

The doors creak open and light pours out, warm and soft like the blanket on Matt’s couch. 

**_Welcome home_ ** .

Foggy breathes in -- fresh bread, sweet wine, dense incense,  _ home _ \-- and turns to Matt.

Matt’s face is as beautiful as it’s ever been, open and happy. There’s no blood between his teeth, no bruises or cuts or pain. Matt smiles at Foggy and  _ yeah, _ he thinks,  _ I understand. _

And they walk through the doors hand in hand.


End file.
